der that Mrs.
Fulmort and her two elder daughters swept in in as decidedly procession
style as if they had formed part of a train of twenty.

The star that bestowed three female sovereigns to Europe seemed to have
had the like influence on Hiltonbury parish, since both its squires were
heiresses. Miss Mervyn would have been a happier woman had she married a
plain country gentleman, like those of her own stock, instead of giving a
county position to a man of lower origin and enormous monied wealth. To
live up to the claims of that wealth had been her business ever since,
and health and enjoyment had been so completely sacrificed to it, that
for many years past the greater part of her time had been spent in
resting and making herself up for her appearance in the evening, when she
conducted her elder daughters to their gaieties. Faded and tallowy in
complexion, so as to be almost ghastly in her blue brocade and heavy gold
ornaments, she reclined languidly on a large easy-chair, saying with
half-closed eyes--

'Well, Phoebe, Miss Fennimore has told you of Miss Charlecote's
invitation.'

'Yes, mamma. I am very, _very_ much obliged!'

'You know you are not to fancy yourself come out,' said Juliana, the
second sister, who had a good tall figure, and features and complexion
not far from beauty, but marred by a certain shrewish tone and air.

'Oh, no,' answered Phoebe; 'but with Miss Charlecote that will make no
difference.'

'Probably not,' said Juliana; 'for of course you will see nobody but a
set of old maids and clergymen and their wives.'

'She need not go far for old maids,' whispered Bertha to Maria.

'Pray, in which class do you reckon the Sandbrooks?' said Phoebe,
smiling; 'for she chiefly goes to meet them.'

'She may go!' said Juliana, scornfully; 'but Lucilla Sandbrook is far
past attending to her!'

'I wonder whether the Charterises will take any notice of Phoebe?'
exclaimed Augusta.

'My dear,' said Mrs. Fulmort, waking slowly to another idea, 'I will tell
Boodle to talk to--what's your maid's name?--about your dresses.'

'Oh, mamma,' interposed Juliana, 'it will be only poking about the
exhibitions with Miss Charlecote. You may have that plaid silk of mine
that I was going to have worn out abroad, half-price for her.'

Bertha fairly made a little stamp at Juliana, and clenched her fist.

If Phoebe dreaded anything in the way of dress, it was Juliana's
half-price.

'My dear, your papa would